


Platinum Run

by AvalonTeal



Series: Vertibird-6 [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, I'm spending way too much time world-building and goddammit I'm taking you all along for the ride, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, more tags to be added once they become relevant, the courier travels from planet to planet delivering packages and mapping stars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvalonTeal/pseuds/AvalonTeal
Summary: Haley hasn’t been back on Mars for years, had no intention of coming back, but when a mysterious client offers a shit-load of caps for a job? Haley can hardly refuse. But Mars isn’t what he remembered,  not since the Legion started dropping troops; Haley is less concerned about the ways Mars has changed though, is more concerned about all the ways it stayed the same.Space AU! The courier travels from planet to planet encountering asteroids, space station casinos and derelict colony ships!





	1. Chapter 1

The Mojave Outpost was a shithole—a rundown little spaceport orbiting Mars. These days it was mostly full of NCR marines, especially since the last Legion attack; the Nova Corp Republic was supposed to make Mars safer, lately though it just made getting through customs a pain in the ass.  
  
The NCR officer behind the counter was looking over Haley’s papers a second time, squinted as he double-checked Haley’s information on the terminal.

“Caravan, citizen or...”

“Courier,” Haley said; it said that on his papers. “Mojave Express.”

The officer didn’t look up. “I just need something to put in the database,” he said.  
  
Since Earth had been destroyed, companies liked naming themselves after the places they’d lost, little slices of home. Haley had no idea what the Mojave had even looked like—he’d never been to Earth—but if it’d looked anything like Mars, then he hardly thought it warranted any sort of nostalgia.  
  
A few more keystrokes and the officer handed Haley’s papers and ID back to him. “You’re clear to go.”

“Appreciate it,” Haley said.

The spaceport wasn’t especially large; it had seemed larger back when only travelers came here. Since Haley had visited last, they’d replaced his favorite burger place with a NCR recruiting station. _Bastards_ , Haley thought. That had been the only part of coming to this station worth looking forward to. He went to the noodle place instead, ordered the spiciest ramen on the menu and a cup of green tea. The noodle vendor seemed to appreciate his choice, passed him some chopsticks with a smile.

“Shame about _The Atomic Wrangler_ ,” Haley said, nodding toward the now recruiting station. “Better business for you though, I guess?”

The vendor laughed. “Barely, these NCR boys don’t pay shit. ‘Free noodles’ they say. ‘We should be grateful they’re here’.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” Haley said.

The NCR believed themselves the galaxy’s saviors—believed themselves a necessity. The Legion had been appearing near planets more and more frequently lately; even the Mojave Express had taken to warning their couriers against certain routes. Not even three days ago Haley had sat idle in space for days waiting for a Legion formation to leave, ended up venturing into an asteroid belt to go around since he was nearly out of fuel. And when Legion troops started dropping onto Mars? Well, the NCR could hardly ignore that, sent their own troops to a planet that had, up until this point, remained largely empty and anonymous. Haley missed the anonymity.  
  
A group of NCR troops passed by, one of the men winked at him. Haley smirked into his drink; at least the uniforms were hot.

Once he finished his noodles he thanked the vendor and tipped him well. The spaceport was two stories, open in a way that shopping malls on larger colonies were. If Haley tilted his head up he could see storefronts and booths above, the odd traveler or soldier walking across see-through walkways. He’d need more fuel before landing, more ammo too, and his jacket was just about due for a replacement. In fact, almost everything on his ship was about due for a replacement, especially since his last job.  
  
The last delivery he’d done had been to a fuel depot just outside of Venus and it hadn’t been a pleasant trip. Spacers called the area ‘The Long 15’—Fifteen groupings of asteroid belts scattered in a way that made piloting treacherous, took him three weeks to navigate. The fuel depot was in the center of it, god knows why, as though anyone would be stopping there for fuel. Haley hadn’t even been sure what the hell he was delivering, hadn’t really cared, had just wanted to leave and fast.  
  
He stopped at a few shops for supplies, got chatting with another traveler about the state of things on Mars. Apparently since he’d been there the Legion had taken over a few colonies, burned down even more. When Haley had last left the planet, the Legion was just a rumor, something spacers worried about; he hadn’t realized that Mars was now a fucking warzone.

 _Terrific_ , Haley thought as the other traveler walked away. Now he had to worry about the Legion planet-side too.

His ship needed repairs so he decided to spend the night on the station before dropping planet-side. On the way back from the repair shop he saw the same NCR guy who had winked at him, invited him back to the cheap room he had rented. The NCR soldier didn’t hesitate.

“Lead the way, gorgeous,” he told Haley.

///

Haley might not like NCR much, but damn if their boys weren’t built—solid muscle, white laser scars and battle-ready roughness. The recent close-call with the Legion was still fresh in Haley’s memory and this was a hell of a good way to scrub it from his brain, a nice way to find some relief, some release. NCR’s claim to ‘keeping Mars safe’ may be bullshit, but Haley sure felt safe with an NCR guy standing over him, strong hands at his hips, tugging off his jeans.

“You’re awfully pretty,” The NCR guy told him. Haley didn’t know his first name but it said ‘Carter’ on his jacket. “Like those guys you see in the vids.”

Haley considered asking him _What type of vids_ but the remark died on his lips when Carter nudged a knee up between Haley’s legs, pressing _just right_. Carter grinned at the pleased hum Haley made in response, took a step back to take off his own pants. It wasn’t until Carter started pulling off his jacket that Haley noticed the wedding ring. _Of course_.

“Got a guy back home, huh?” He said as Carter pulled off his shirt.

“Shit,” the man said, wincing. “Yeah, haven’t seen him since Christmas.”

“He look like me?” Haley guessed.

“Kind of,” Carter grunted, reaching over and threading fingers through Haley’s hair. “Blonde.”

“Ah,” Haley said.

Carter hadn’t stopped stripping and Haley didn’t ask him to, let his head fall back onto the mattress as Carter climbed on top of him, getting between Haley’s knees and lifting him up at the hips. Did he care that Carter had a husband? Maybe. But Haley had been a tightly wound bundle of nerves and anxiety all week—hell, all month—why stop a perfectly good thing just cause the guy was married?

“What’s his name?” Haley asked, staring at the ceiling.

“Jake,” the man said, sighing the name into Haley’s shoulder. It was obvious now that the man missed his husband, despite this obvious lapse of judgment, and Haley was feeling generous.

“You can call me that if you like; pretend I’m him, I don’t mind.” And he didn’t. Guys had called him all kinds of things; someone else’s name was hardly the worst.  
  
/ / /

Haley grabbed some whiskey from his pack after Carter left and poured himself a glass, glancing out the window. He could see the planet’s surface from here—could see the dim glow of lights from cities and ships drifting in space above it. It was eerie in a way that Haley never quite got used to—time passed so differently up here in space, almost meant nothing. Down there on a planet, day and night and weeks and months had a tangible presence, but up here you could do run after run taking jobs from space stations or contracts through the extranet, and then suddenly you’re twenty-eight and the last time you were actually back on Mars was nine years ago.

 _Fuck_ , he thought; nine years wasn’t long enough.

He knocked the rest of the whiskey back and collapsed onto the bed, lazily pulling the thin blanket out from under him and then over his shoulder, rolling onto his stomach and burying his head in a pillow. He was tired. Tired in so many ways; that last run had been a shit-show and he was glad to be fucking done with it. This new run though? He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d avoided Mars for a goddamn reason but this job required a face-to-face; most clients were content to send a dossier over the extranet and caps the same way once the job was done.

Haley sighed, at least the sex earlier had been good, had settled into his joints and limbs leaving a pleasant kind of soreness. Haley shifted onto his side, reread the details of the job on his pipboy: a standard pick-up and drop-off using a predetermined route, and a payout of 3,000 caps once the job was done. A meeting with the client beforehand was required--“100% non-negotiable.”  
  
Typically a face-to-face on Mars would have immediately earned a hard pass from Haley, but the money was too good; 3,000 caps was not your average, every day payout. And there was also the fact that the client asked for him specifically, had used his real name.

He scrolled back up to the top of the message, to the very first sentence:

 _Jackson,_ the message said. _We need to talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haley said 'Fuck the NCR!' and then he did
> 
> I know this is a short chapter but they'll be longer soon! It just felt right to end this one here ;)


	2. Chapter 2

For the hundredth time since he’d received details of the job, Haley wondered who had sent it. He could count the number of people who knew his real name on one hand, and most of them were dead. Some part of him wondered if this was a trap—Omertas had a long fucking memory—but he wasn’t a kid anymore, not someone they could just push around; that was what Haley told himself anyway.

Another passenger glanced at him and Haley realized that he’d been rapping his docking pass against his knuckles; he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it at all until now.  
  
He had docked his ship planet-side this morning and the second he’d walked outside, the sight of red dunes and dust storms had his stomach churning. The docking bay was a few hundred miles outside of the nearest city to accommodate all the ships, and the quickest way to get to the city was by tram. He was in a tram car now, hunched over his knees and rapping his docking pass against his knuckles, _too loudly apparently_. He transferred the plastic chip into his pocket instead, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to relax.

 _It’s fine,_ He told himself. _It’s been nearly ten years; they can’t possibly recognize you. This job isn’t for the Omertas. You’re fine._

He opened his eyes. The passenger was still staring at him; Haley had started bouncing his knee now instead. “Sorry,” Haley said.

“First time on Mars?” The passenger asked. He was attractive, but not Haley’s usual type. Mid-forties with gray streaked hair and pronounced laugh-lines.

“Sure,” Haley said cause it was easier.

“Name’s Old Ben,” The man said, extending his hand. Haley’s hands had been shaky ever since he had landed but he managed to accept and return the gesture; if Ben noticed the way his fingers shook he didn’t say anything.

“Haley,” he told the man.

“Haley,” Ben said and his voice was kind. “I’ve been living on Mars since the day I was born. I’ve done a bit of everything around here; if you need directions or information, I’m the man to ask.”

“Thanks,” Haley said. “But I’m actually from here, just haven’t been back in a while.”

Old Ben watched him, eyes drifting to Haley’s knee; he’d started bouncing his leg again. “I take it you didn’t want to come back?”

Haley laughed, almost choking. “You could say that.”

They fell into silence, nothing but the sound of the tram and a muffled dust storm outside.

“You don’t look old,” Haley said since the silence was somehow worse. He wasn’t exactly a ‘talk to other passengers’ kind of guy but at least conversation distracted him from the Freeside skyline getting closer.

Old Ben smiled; he had a nice smile Haley decided—genuine, made his face light up.

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s just what the kids around here call me.”

“I’ll just stick with Ben, if that’s alright,” Haley said and Ben nodded.

A voice over the intercom announced that they were arriving at their destination, through the windows Haley could see the tram station approaching and that damn familiar skyline.

“Hey Ben,” Haley said as the tram’s brakes screeched. “Know any place that serves a decent burger?”

///

It turned out that _The Atomic Wrangler_ hadn’t gone out of business, they had just moved planet-side. When Old Ben saw Haley’s expression upon hearing this he actually laughed, offered to show him the way and treat him to lunch. Haley could hardly argue, he rarely said no to free food.

The restaurant’s new location was much larger, an actual full-sized restaurant instead of a booth with bar stools. There was a stage at the front, slots and poker in the back and a full-sized bar in the middle. Old Ben got them a booth by a window, ordered them both Nuka Colas to start as the waitress passed them menus. One quick glance at the first page was all Haley needed; he had always ordered the burger with jalapeños and pepper jack cheese and today was no different, asked for extra peppers on the side and onion rings. Mars may be a hell-hole, but at least they had good food.

“Thanks for lunch,” Haley said to Ben as the waitress left to place their orders with the kitchen.

“Figured some food might help settle your nerves,” Ben said gently.

Haley winced. “I-” he shrugged, popped the cap off his Nuka Cola and took a long drink. How much did he really want to tell this stranger?

Ben held up a hand. “No need to explain, bad shit happens here, I can only imagine the reasons you left.”

Haley fiddled with the discarded bottle cap-- back when the colonies first started, bottle caps had been currency, now caps were currency in name only, all digital now.

“So,” Ben said. “Need any directions? Not sure how long you’ve been gone but there have been some major changes recently.”

Haley tipped the bottle cap on it’s end and spun it like a top, watched it eventually wobble and clatter back down onto the tabletop.

“Not at the moment,” he said. “Sposed to wait around Freeside til a meet’s scheduled; I’m a courier.”

Old Ben nodded, “I was a courier once; gotta be careful.”

Haley smirked, reminded of his last job. “Don’t I know it,” he said.

The burger was just as good as Haley remembered, tried not to wolf it down too fast to really enjoy it. Old Ben watched him with a smile and once the waitress brought the check and he’d paid for the meal, he stood, extending his hand again. Haley had just popped another onion ring into his mouth, hastily wiped his fingers on the leg of his jeans before shaking Ben’s hand.

“It was good to meet you Haley,” Ben said. “If you need any other directions I’m always around; ask anyone for Old Ben and you should be able to find me.”

“Thanks again for lunch,” Haley said.

Ben smiled. “Of course! If you’re looking for a place to stay, the hotel across the street is the nicest or you can always stay somewhere the Followers run, they’re always honest. And last piece of advice?” Ben leaned in, lowered his voice. “Avoid taking any jobs for _The Silver Rush,_ folks on that ship are up to no good, the couriers they hire always wind up dead.”

Haley had never heard of a ship called _The Silver Rush_ , committed the name to memory.

“Thanks,” Haley said.

Ben gave Haley a small wave and strolled out the door leaving Haley to finish the rest of his onion rings. He was actually surprised Ben left so soon; usually guys who bought him meals just wanted sex.

///

Haley hadn’t heard back from his client yet so he decided to take a look around Freeside; Old Ben wasn’t kidding, a lot had changed. What hadn’t changed was the god-awful amount of advertisements and they were everywhere.

Neon adverts for the latest Z-class Vertibirds, shops playing the _Sugar Bombs_ jingle ‘ _Ask your pop or your mom for some sugar bombs’,_ looping vids of dancing men and women promising gambling and sex on the party ship _Gomorrah._ That last one had Haley swallowing back a wave of too-familiar nausea. ‘ _Dock your ship inside, captain.’_ the ad said.

Freeside was the biggest colony on Mars, in fact at this point, it was considered more of a metropolis. When Haley had left there had only been a handful of high-rise buildings but today the amount had nearly tripled, large glass corporate towers reflecting red and orange dunes. Haley supposed that if he hadn’t grown up here, he might actually find the city pretty, exciting even, and Haley could see that sentiment worn on nearby faces, travelers clearly experiencing Mars for the first time. The tall buildings may stretch toward the heavens, but they cast long shadows, and hiding in those shadows were ugly secrets, secrets Haley knew all too well; The shimmering glass looked pretty until you saw what was behind it.

Fuck, he needed a cigarette.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets instead and hunched his shoulders, kicking a discarded beer can further down the sidewalk. The Mojave Express had a location in Freeside and he figured, hell, while he was here he might as well pick up a quick job on the side; extra caps never hurt and most of the offices didn’t bother posting smaller local jobs on the extranet. Besides, he’d prefer to keep himself busy.

The Mojave Express wasn’t the only courier service, but it was the one with the best reputation, their couriers lauded as the best of the best. Some were ex-military, some were ex-mercs, and some—like Haley—were just damn good pilots. If you hired a Mojave Express courier, you expected the job to get done fast and done well.

The office was on the bottom floor of a larger office building and a buzzer sounded when Haley walked through the door. The secretary, an elderly woman, beamed up at him.

“Well hi honey, how can I help you?”

Haley walked over to the counter and flashed his best smile, “Miss,” he said and the woman actually giggled.

“Oh please,” she laughed. “Call me Mabel.”

Haley smiled again and propped an elbow on the counter. “Miss Mabel, I’m one of your couriers—Haley with the C-class Vertibird? I’m planet-side for a pick-up but I thought I might check in, see if there are any local jobs while I’m on Mars?”

“Well of course!” Mabel said, turning to her terminal screen. “Let’s see now,” she said. “You looking for something small?”

Haley nodded. “Preferably; I’m waiting for instructions on another job, figured I might help ya’ll out while I wait.”

Mabel turned to wink at him. “Well, aren’t you sweet.”

Haley checked his pipboy for messages while Mabel scrolled through the database; still nothing back from the client.

“Here we are,” Mabel said. “Looks like we have a delivery to Primm—that’s not too far, about a four hour flight for a Vertibird.”

“Easy,” Haley said. “What’s the cargo?”

///

The cargo was mostly crates of medical supplies, along with some civilian packages. Dock workers hauled the crates into the cargo bay of Haley’s ship, stacking them on large pallets. Haley smoked a cigarette, watching them work from his place on the observation deck above.

His ship was an older civilian class Vertibird—not big enough to transport passengers, but large enough for cargo. Vertibirds were a staple for lone spacers; fast, maneuverable, and easy to customize; small enough to get where your larger ships couldn’t. He’d purchased his a few years back after he’d made enough caps to stop renting. He’d bought the ship used so it was already named, just the number “6” painted in yellow and red. It wasn’t exactly poetic, but every spacer knew that it was bad luck to change a name.

“Bird’s full,” the foreman shouted up at him, giving him a thumbs up. “You’re good to go!”

Haley waved his thanks and flicked away the remains of his cigarette. This would be a quick, mindless delivery.

That was the plan anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, chapters look so much shorter on Ao3 than they do on my doc.  
> Hope you guys are enjoying this! Comments are so appreciated and keep me going! I'm really enjoying creating this Space AU and I have so many plans.


End file.
